Time heals all wounds
by TiTivillus
Summary: Even now that he was dead, Sam still somehow managed to drive a wedge into their relationship. Post 6x01. Exile On Main Street. Angsty One-shot.


**Title:** Time heals all wounds

**Summary:** He couldn't tell his friends about the hunting, so he figured the Impala would be the next best thing to brag about. In hindsight, Ben didn't think the plan was that great anymore. Post 6x01, Exile On Main Street.

**Warnings:** K+ for language

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the show or the characters

* * *

><p><em><strong>"They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite"<strong>_  
>― Cassandra Clare, <em>Clockwork Prince<em>

He just wanted to show them.

Just in and out. Take a quick glance without anybody noticing.

Ben shuffled nervously on his feet, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure they were still alone.

Still undetected.

His friend, Thomas lifted the grey tarp until more of the Impala's slick hood was revealed.

"Dude!" Jonah exclaimed beside him, eyes widening in excitement. "That's so sweet."

Ben felt guilty and uncomfortable, knowing that he had not only gone against Dean's orders to steer clear of the car but also done the unthinkable- and shown the man's greatest pride and joy to his friends.

It had seemed like such a great idea at first, showing his friends how 'cool' Dean really was and how incredibly awesome the guy's life had been before he hooked up with Ben's mom.

And since he couldn't tell Jonah and Thomas about the hunting, he figured the Impala would be the next best thing to brag about.

In hindsight, Ben didn't think the plan was that great anymore.

After all, the classic Chevy was Dean's sanctuary.

Not even his mom was allowed to go anywhere near it and Dean himself hadn't touched it since the day he arrived at their house.

If Dean ever found out about this, he would probably kill Ben.

"Guys, look at the interior!" Thomas said, opening the door with a rusty creak. Ben's heart pounded away loudly in his chest, anxiety rising up to an unbearable level.

"Stop it, Tom. I told you not to touch it!"

The deal was to take a look and leave again. He had never said anything about touching.

But he should have known that his friends wouldn't be able to keep their fingers to themselves.

"Is that real leather? Man, it should be illegal to let such a beauty go to waste in a garage!"

Ben shrugged, fingers twitching helplessly by his sides as Thomas leaned into the car, deftly ignoring his earlier warning to 'just look and not touch'.

Jonah shoved Thomas to the side and ran his hands over the dashboard silent reverie. "I would be taking her out EVERY day, man. I bet the chicks dig the classics..."

"Let's just go back inside and play Xbox, alright?" Ben tried again- feeling increasingly uncomfortable at the sight of his friends inside the black Chevy.

Because Dean was really cool about a lot of things, but he didn't like for other people to delve into his past.

And this was the worst kind of intrusion, Ben suddenly realized. It was the one physical object that represented the connection to Dean's past life. And to Sam... And Dean would absolutely fucking kill Ben if he ever knew.

"What's that?" Jonah piped up from inside the car, reaching out towards a little grey toy soldier that was stuck in the ashtray.

Ben's stomach churned at the sight. This wasn't good. He should never have come here in the first place, should never have brought them to the garage and shown them the Impala.

"Looks like some kind of toy..." Thomas chimed in and then reached out to open the glove compartment, before Ben had any chance to protest. "Look at this, man."

"Guys, let's just go, alright?"

"It's just pictures-"

Jonah reached out to take the battered looking photographs from Tom's hands and Ben felt sick to his stomach.

Shooting forward, he ripped the pictures from Jonah's fingers. "That's enough, alright. You've had your fun!"

"Gee.. chill out man, we were just having a look."

Ben shook his head, gaze falling down to one of the pictures in his trembling hands.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest when he saw a younger version of Dean, leather jacket and short cropped hair- and shit-eating grin like Ben had never seen him smile before.

Next to him on the photo was a shaggy haired guy with a dimpled smile and shiny eyes.

Sam.

Ben swallowed, biting his lower lip until it started hurting.

This was the part of Dean's life that he so desperately tried to hide from the outside world.

Ben didn't have all the details but he knew that Sam was dead.

He was gone, lost forever.

And Dean still suffered greatly from that loss, having vivid nightmares that would keep him up at night and cause him to go all teary-eyed and withdrawn until he had to drown the pain out with alcohol.

He tried not to show it, tried to keep his emotions hidden from both Ben and his mother, but the truth was that Dean's grief over the loss of his brother was obvious in everything he did and everything he said.

It was in the way he would sometimes wake up screaming in the middle of the night and in the way he always left the room when certain songs played on the radio.

It was in the way he would sometimes accidentally call Ben 'Sammy' and in the way his eyes would widen in panic and his face would blanch afterwards.

And sometimes it would happen at the weirdest occasions, like when there was a Mac Donalds commercial on TV or when the neighbor's son Jeremy told them that he was leaving for Stanford or when their mom was ordering a salad in a fast food restaurant.

So this right there- the yellowed, dog-eared photos in his hands were never supposed to be seen or touched by anybody other than Dean himself.

And because the universe apparently hated him, the door to the garage was opened in that exact moment, with Dean poking his head through the crack, dirty blond hair and emerald eyes.

"Hey Ben, your mom sai–"

Ben felt his heart skip a beat when their eyes met over the slick black hood of the Impala.

Dean stopped talking the second he realized what was going on, eyes flashing with unmistakable hurt and betrayal upon noticing the two other boys in his car.

"Dean-" Ben uttered breathlessly, distinctly aware of his friends scrambling out of the Impala and throwing the door closed in their wake.

It took a second for Dean to regain his composure, before his face grew absolutely expressionless and stony.

"I think it's time for your friends to go home."

Ben swallowed, shooting Tom and Jonah an urging look as they hastily made their goodbyes and fled from the garage.

Once they were gone, Ben fumbled for words. "Dean, I never meant for them to touch her, I swear- I just wanted them to have a look–"

Dean made a beeline for the car and tugged the hood in place- covering her up again, without making eye contact.

Even from where he was standing Ben could feel him bristling- could feel the anger radiating from him as if it was his own.

"I'm sorry-"

"Shut up!" Dean snapped and Ben's eyes widened at the sharpness of his words and tone.

Dean got angry on occasion, but he had never cussed him out- never raised his voice when talking to Ben.

Never.

He was so stunned for a moment, that he didn't even notice when Dean harshly snatched the pictures from his fingers with an icy glower. "Go inside."

"Dean–"

"_Go. Inside._ I can't look at you right now_._"

Ben lowered his head and stormed out of the garage before Dean had a chance to see the shimmer of tears in his eyes.

* * *

><p>"He's a teenager Dean."<p>

"Is that supposed to be an excuse?"

Lisa sighed, putting her coffee mug down on the dining table.

Dean was pacing the living room floor with barely contained anger simmering in his every move and it made her nervous to watch him.

She sat up a little straighter in her seat, sensing an argument coming.

Because while she would put up with nearly all of Dean's issues (and there sure were a lot of them), she wouldn't tolerate him being like this around her son.

"Look, I'm not saying what he did was right, but he is really sorry about it. I saw tears in his eyes when he ran into his room."

Dean didn't seem fazed by the news of Ben being upset. He was too busy popping a vein than to acknowledge teenager's emotional pain and regret over what had happened.

"I told him not to go there and he did it anyways! And as if it's not bad enough that he went through my stuff, he brought his friends along too. You know what I did for a living before coming here– he could have found god- knows-what!"

"Could he really?" Lisa asked, raising an eyebrow. She was trying to keep calm and rational about this, but Dean was starting to get himself into dangerous territory. "Because I remember telling you to stash all your weapons away from this house so that there was no chance of him ever finding these things."

"Well I'm not talking about weapons here. I'm talking about rosaries, holy water, Latin books and rites. How do you think the neighborhood will feel about your new boyfriend being into occult rituals?!" Dean shot back.

Lisa sighed again, wrapping her light blue bath robe tighter around her waist. "You are blowing things out of proportion... The boys didn't see a thing. They were just nosy teenage boys fooling around. And Ben will certainly never do it again. You made sure of that."

"Oh so now _I'm_ the bad guy?" Dean fumed, throwing his arms in the air.

"I didn't say... " she sighed, rubbing her temples. "Dean, don't you see how much Ben admires you? He's never had a father in his whole life and now that you are living with us, he's thrilled."

She looked up to meet his stormy verdant eyes over the dining table. "Can you really hold it against him to want to show you off to his friends?"

Dean shook his head, pressing his lips together in lieu of an answer.

"Dean..." Lisa probed hesitantly, unsure if she should really breach the topic that has been on her mind during their whole conversation.

Her tone was compassionate and soft. She felt like approaching a wounded animal, every hasty move or wrong word could set Dean off at this point.

But there were things they needed to discuss, issues that needed to be addressed.

"Maybe -you know it's been more than half a year...Don't you think it's time for you to... let go?"

She should have known better. Dean recoiled from her words as if they were physical blows, features twisting into a bitter grimace as he clutched the battered photograph even harder in his calloused hands.

He hadn't let go of it once since he returned from the garage. And wasn't it just metaphoric for how Dean still clutched at his past with everything that he was?

Letting go, yeah right.

She might as well have asked him to become a professional ballet dancer.

Somewhere in the depths of her heart, Lisa felt something unfamiliar rear its ugly head.

Jealousy.

It was almost ridiculous how she could get jealous over _this_, when Dean had women practically drooling over him wherever he went, flirting shamelessly and slipping him phone numbers. Lisa knew Dean was faithful, she trusted him completely in that regard.

But Sam? That was a whole nother story... The love Dean held for her and Ben would never be able to compete with the love he held for his little brother and that was something she had a hard time accepting.

Even now that he was dead, Sam still somehow managed to drive a wedge into their relationship.

If Lisa knew one thing for sure, it was that if given the choice between a life with her and Ben and a life on the road with his little brother, Dean would be gone in the span of a second.

"Look," she sighed, trying to meet him halfway. "I'm not saying you should forget Sam."

Dean snorted as if to say _'I'd like to see you try'_.

Lisa decidedly ignored the reaction and went on. "But maybe… I don't know Dean, maybe you need to get rid of the things that… that remind you of him."

She sighed. "Maybe you should sell the car. Ask Denny if he knows a collector… somebody who would appreciate-"

"I'm going for a walk." Dean cut her off, without looking at her. His posture was tense, shoulders drawn and expression unreadable.

Shit. She had told herself so often to give him space, to let him grieve, to not be one of these women who pressured guys into anything they were not ready for. But she had thought that after 6 months maybe it was finally time to make a first step towards normalcy and leave the grieving stage behind.

"Dean–" she tried to protest, getting up from her seat. But it was too late.

Dean was stepping away from her, face pale and eyes averted.

"I'll be back," he murmured hastily as he grabbed the keys to his truck from the small stand in the hall and headed towards the door. "I just need to clear my head…"

* * *

><p>That night Lisa lay awake for hours, just staring up at the ceiling.<p>

She made up a total of fifteen different scenarios, all of which ended with Dean leaving, despite his promise to be back.

It was only when she heard the tell-tale sound of keys jingling and the front door opening that she allowed herself to take a deep breath and close her eyes in relief.

The footsteps came closer and then stopped- no doubt in front of Ben's room, signifying Dean's traditional nightly check on her son.

Lisa rubbed her eyes when Dean's form appeared in the door frame. He hesitated before stepping in.

"I said I'd be back…" he said as he stripped out of his jacket and pulled off his shoes."You didn't have to wait up."

"I know I just… I thought–" she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

"Lis…" Dean sighed, sounding defeated.

Her heart melted at the familiar nickname.

He sat down at the corner of the bed, hunched over and shaking slightly.

A sliver of light filtered into the room from the small slit beneath the bathroom door, illuminating Dean's face just enough to see that his eyes were puffy.

Lisa's throat constricted at the sight and she moved closer, resting a comforting arm on his back. "I'm sorry for today, Dean. It's okay if you need more time to… deal. It really is- he was your brother and it's unfair of me to–"

"I won't sell the car."

It came out as a croak, but there was a finality to the words that made her shiver.

"I just… I can't," he elaborates, halting again when the words elude him.

"Okay," Lisa whispered before leaning in to plant a soft kiss against his shoulder blade. "That's okay, it was stupid of me to ask. You can keep it forever Dean, I just thought it might help…"

Dean's muscles tensed beneath her touch. "It wouldn't help," he said curtly, leaving no room for discussion.

Lisa nodded her head in understanding. After a short moment of silence, she sighed, leaning back against the headboard.

"You know…" she said. "I was thinking… maybe you want to put up a picture or two... of you and Sam in the house."

His breath caught at the suggestion.

"I mean it's just an idea… you don't have to, but there is still some space on the wall with our family portraits in the living room next to the one with–"

Lisa didn't get to finish her sentence when Dean turned his head to the side and leaned in to silence her with a chaste kiss.

Her heart sped up at the simple caress and she closed her eyes at the feeling of his warm lips brushing her own.

However, the moment was broken before it had even really begun and then Dean moved back again, looking deep into her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, eyes glistening in the dark.

The words held so much gravity, so much depth. And Lisa knew Dean wasn't just apologizing for what had happened today...

_I'm sorry for being so broken, that not even you can fix me._

_I'm sorry for freaking out on Ben and upsetting him over something so trivial._

_I'm sorry for not being able to let go._

_I'm sorry for not loving you more than Sam. _

Lisa took a deep breath, forcing a smile on her lips, even though she felt like crying inside.

"It's okay. You'll be okay," she whispered, knowing that it was a lie.

They went to sleep soon after, a heavy silence lulling them to sleep.

* * *

><p>The next day, Dean had a conciliative talk with Ben.<p>

To Lisa's huge surprise, they spent the afternoon working on the Impala, after Dean had offered to show Ben some basics.

The photograph of Sam never actually made it onto the living room wall.

But every now and then Dean would pull it out of his wallet (when he thought nobody was looking) and shed a tear, expression twisting with insurmountable grief and longing.

Then he would wipe his eyes and stash it away carefully, before dutifully taking on his role as husband and father and acting as if nothing ever happened.

These were the times when Lisa realized, that her life with Dean was nothing but a fragile illusion bound to be broken into pieces at some point in the future.

Their days together were numbered.

Dean would leave again.

And he would do it for Sam.

But until then, Lisa was going to take what she could get.

And she was going to enjoy every single second they had left together.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading everyone! Just a little something that came to my mind, hope you enjoyed! Please drop me a review to let me in on your thoughts ;) Reviews make my day, so don't be shy :D<em>


End file.
